


Desire

by Scribo_Vivere



Series: Learning Curve [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 09:31:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribo_Vivere/pseuds/Scribo_Vivere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perhaps the hardest lesson to learn is not when to let go, but when to give in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desire

**Author's Note:**

> For Astolat's Ten in Ten. I have apparently set sail on the Castiel/Balthazar ship, full steam ahead. This will be a series, but as I am sure many of you are aware, offline life takes its toll. I cannot promise when those other parts will be posted. Also, PLEASE HEED THE FACT that Balthazar is alive and very human in this body of work. Due to that, I do consider it AU and have tagged it as such.

Balthazar couldn’t help but wonder why so many of his brothers had such enormous sticks up their arses. As he saw it, there was nothing wrong with having a few drinks and sampling the female population. After all, the Englishman’s body he’d chosen to inhabit was apparently rather pleasing to the eyes.  
And now, since Metatron had seen fit to banish the angelic population to Earth and make himself sole master of Heaven, resurrecting him in the process, Balthazar didn’t see what it mattered that he fucked every girl in existence. He was human now, after all. As to why Metatron had been so gracious as to literally give him a second lease on life, Balthazar knew he would never know, and in all honesty, he wasn't sure he wanted to. Heaven was a place that had once been his home, but as of late, he was seeing Earth as his true resting place.  
That in itself merited a night to lose himself in drink and women.  
His first course tonight, as it were, happened to be a dance club nestled in the heart of Boston, Massachusetts. The electronica was loud, the drinks were amazing, and the women always flocked there in droves, especially on a Friday night, which this was. He fully expected to have at least one good glass of English whiskey before being dragged off to the dance floor by an eager young thing looking for a good time.  
What he hadn’t wagered on was seeing a familiar form sitting at the bar, a bottle of beer in front of them. When their eyes met, the other inclined his head slightly to the left, a clear indication.  
Balthazar quirked an eyebrow, but joined Castiel, perching on the stool next to him and signaling the bartender for his usual, receiving a nod in return.  
“And now for something completely different,” he quipped drily, noting the tense line of Castiel’s shoulders. “This is the very last place I expected to find you, Cassie. I never quite took you for the type.”  
Castiel smiled humorlessly, taking a long pull of his beer. “Lots of things are different now, Balthazar-including the state of what I am.”  
Noticing that Castiel was now wearing black jeans, boots, and a long-sleeved black polo instead of his previous trench coat, slacks, blazer, dress shirt and tie, Balthazar smiled, a tad wistfully.  
“I’ve noticed. Is that what prompted you to come here seeking liquor and women? I'm here for the same reason, if it's any consolation.”  
Castiel snorted. “Hardly. What prompted me is the mere fact that I’ve come to realize I no longer give a fuck.”  
Despite himself, Balthazar chuckled.  
“It’s comforting to know that Dean Winchester is apparently good for something. His vernaculars are rubbing off on you, I see.”  
A wry smile quirked the corners of Castiel’s lips upward, and he shot Balthazar a wicked look from underneath his lashes.  
“More than just his language, I’m afraid.”  
“Oh?” Balthazar grinned. “Do you mean to say you’ve managed to bed a willing participant?”  
“More than one. And not all of them have been women-although I’m not certain Dean is aware of the last part.”  
“Ah!” Balthazar threw back his head and laughed. “Now that’s what it means to be human, Cassie.”  
Seductive music suddenly blared from the speakers, and Castiel tilted his head, listening. Balthazar grinned again.  
“Know the artist, do we?”  
Castiel shrugged, finishing his beer and setting it on the counter behind him. “I’ve been immersing myself in different genres. They sound familiar. I’ve probably listened to them recently.”  
Balthazar shook his head. “You are something else.” Upon noticing that Castiel’s eyes were focused on a young male moving across the dance floor, Balthazar nudged him in the side.  
“I’d advise you to get yourself a piece of that,” he winked.  
“I wouldn’t be able to attract him.”  
“And just why is that?”  
“I haven’t mastered this style of dancing yet.”  
Well, that wouldn’t do. Balthazar set his glass down and rose, holding out a hand.  
“Then it’s high time you learned.”  
Surprise flitted across Castiel’s features for an instant, but he rose as well, allowing Balthazar to lead him out onto the floor. No one paid them any mind, and Castiel stared resolutely into the other man’s face.  
“What do I do?”  
“For starters, we’re going to need to get closer than this.” Balthazar quickly wrapped an arm around Castiel’s waist and pulled him flush with his body.  
Castiel drew in a breath, having been unprepared, and Balthazar spoke quietly.  
“Just follow my lead, Cassie.”  
Balthazar began to sway softly in tempo with the song. Castiel found himself following his steps effortlessly, and soon the tension he was feeling had disappeared, leaving him with something far more immediate to deal with.  
The other man smelled like sweet spices, after shave, and clean air, and Castiel’s chest grew tight as Balthazar turned them, not losing a single beat, and slid a hand down to Castiel’s hip, tightening his hold as his other arm snaked around Castiel’s waist from behind.  
The movement this time was of an entirely different nature, as certain parts were now very close. Castiel swallowed tightly, and Balthazar put his mouth next to Castiel’s ear, the man’s alcohol-cooled breath sending shivers down Castiel’s spine. Balthazar, he noted, sounded quite unraveled.  
“Should I assume you’ve got everything under control now?”  
Castiel’s eyes slipped shut, and he gripped Balthazar’s arm, head falling back.  
“Not everything,” he said, desperately aware that his voice lacked stability.  
Balthazar eyed the expanse of exposed throat with a surprising amount of yearning. He wanted, and yet-  
“Do it,” Castiel groaned, with a sensual twist of his hips, and Balthazar was lost.  
He shuddered uncontrollably as Balthazar’s mouth closed over his pulse point, teeth meeting skin. The pain was just enough to sting, and also induce an incredible amount of pleasure at the same time. It was enough to drive Castiel mad.  
All else in the club had faded away. It was only the two of them, and it wasn’t until Balthazar pulled away that Castiel realized the song had ended.  
Stepping back, Castiel gazed at him. He knew what sort of picture he was presenting-hair mussed; clothes rumpled; bite marks on his neck. Balthazar appeared to be no better, his breathing uneven. For long moments neither spoke, and then Castiel reached out, fingers catching on Balthazar’s sleeve, a silent, burning question in his eyes.  
He could see the answer clearly in Balthazar’s own, and he let the other man lead him to the door.


End file.
